


Boy Wonder (reader x spencer reid one shots)

by mitchmatch24



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aftercare, All of this is sex, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Cuddling and Snuggling, Dom Spencer Reid, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Just a lot of kink, M/M, NSFW, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex, Smut, Top Spencer Reid, What Could Possibly Go Wrong?, bisexual reader, degradation kink, male reader - Freeform, sub Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28273857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitchmatch24/pseuds/mitchmatch24
Summary: A collection of one shots featuring a male reader and the one and only, Dr. Spencer Reid. Enjoy!Note: kinks will be in the notes and the beginning of each one shot because I'm not going to overload the tags.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: innocence kink/loss of innocence, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones. This one is pretty vanilla lol

Ever since getting into a relationship with Spencer Reid, you had been nervous about the topic of sex. Mostly because you had never had it before. Of course, Spencer had been completely ok with that, though, telling you he kind of liked the innocence you possessed.

“It means I get to corrupt your innocent little mind,” Spencer said, a predatory smile on his face.

You scowl at him, trying your hardest not to blush. It was hard, though. “I am _not_ innocent, Spencer. Just… inexperienced,” you shot back, looking away when he cocks his head, an amused look on his impeccable face.

He leaned in, pulling you into him, his hands finding your ass. He looked down at you, still smiling. You put your hands around his waist tentatively, looking away from him in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. It wouldn’t do much good, though. He was a profiler for the FBI, after all. Spencer chuckled, one of his hands coming up to grip your chin and tilt your head up, making you look at him. His gaze pierces you, seeing straight through you. “You sure, baby? You seem pretty innocent to me. You haven’t even had your first time yet,” he murmured, arching a brow as he watched your face.

You don’t offer anything in response, your eyes watching his as your body starts to react to his. It didn’t take much to get you worked up, simple small acts of dominance often doing the trick. You liked how Spencer took over, exercising control over certain situations. Much like he was doing right now. Heat began pooling in your stomach, your face flushing as he continued to look at you with those tantalizing hazel eyes. You tried pulling away from him, but he simply let go of your face and pulled you tighter against him.

“Oh baby, you are so innocent. I haven’t even done anything and you’re already getting turned on,” Spencer pointed out, making you blush harder than you thought you could. “That isn’t something you need to be embarrassed by. It’s just really cute.”

You glared up at him, not enjoying the adjective he had used to describe you. “I am not cute, Spencer Reid,” you declare defiantly.

He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. “Yes, you are, y/n y/ln.” You shook your head no, but he didn’t seem to care, his mind already made up. He ignored your denial of his sentiment, peppering kisses all over your face until you were laughing and trying to wiggle out of his grip and get free. He retaliated by pulling you up, making you cling onto him for dear life, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing. His arm came under you, supporting your weight as he carried you back to the bedroom. You ran you fingers through his hair, your tongue plunging into his mouth, trying to deepen the kiss. Spencer kicked the door open, walking into the room and depositing you on the bed.

His arms came over you, caging you in. Spencer looked down at you, his eyes warm and full of affection. “Do you want to? You can always say no at any time. I won’t be mad. I’m not in this relationship for sex,” Spencer said seriously, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You just nod, already starting to get hard. “I need verbal consent, baby. I don’t want to push you if you aren’t ready,” Spencer said, eyeing you hungrily but not acting on anything.

“Yes, I want to. I’ll tell you to stop if I need to,” you murmur softly.

He smiled, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against yours. He then moved down, kissing you with renewed vigor, his arm coming down and his hand cupping your growing erection. You arched up a bit, eager for him to touch you. You started working on the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with them. Spencer laughed softly, pulling back and finishing the job you had attempted to start. You stared as his skilled fingers unbuttoned every button tantalizingly slowly. “Eager, baby?” Spencer asked, pulling his shirt off and dropping it to the floor. Spencer usually never did anything like that, his need to be neat and tidy taking over almost everything he did.

You nod slowly, watching him as he stood before you, shirtless and aroused. “Take your shirt off,” he ordered softly. You scrambled to follow his command, your head getting caught up in the material of your shirt before you fully pulled it off. You threw it to the side, not bothered by where it landed. Spencer came back over you, his hands planted at either side of your head. He hummed, pressing his lips to yours and then moving down, trailing kisses down your neck and chest, nipping occasionally. Your fingers tangled in his hair; your body strung tight with arousal. Spencer knew how to get you worked up. He had a few times before in the past few months, but you had stopped before going all the way out of nervousness.

One of his hands slid to the inside of your thigh, rubbing small tentative circles to get you to relax. “Spencer, please,” you begged, needing him to touch you or to at least free you from the confinement of your pants.

“Please what? What are you trying to ask?” Spencer teased, knowing full well what you wanted but not giving it to you simply because he wanted to be a tease.

“Want you to touch me,” you whisper, trying to thrust up for some sort of friction or stimulation.

“I am touching you,” he teased again, trying to draw the words out of you.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Spencer _please_ ,” you whine.

He laughed, coming up from where he was to look down at you. “You have to tell me what you want,” Spencer said, a toothy grin on his face. You shook your head, not wanting to say it. “Yes, you do or else I’m not going to do anything.”

“Spencer, please do not make me say it,” you plead, looking away as your cheeks began to heat.

“No need to be shy, baby. Just tell me what you want,” he teased, leaning down and nipping at the lobe of your ear. You mumbled something under your breath, garnering his attention. “What was that?”

“Fuck me. Please,” your mutter, pouting slightly.

“Now was that so hard?” he asked, trying to rile you up.

“I am going to smack you, Spencer. Don’t think that I won’t,” you warn.

“I don’t think you would because if you do you won’t get what you want,” Spencer murmured. You muttered a few insulting comments under your breath. Spencer ignored them, sucking on the side of your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, moving his head to kiss you, sucking on his tongue. You let out a small moan into his mouth, letting his mouth devour yours. Spencer pulled away, nearly breathless and reached over to the bedside table, opening it and searching blindly for a bottle of lube. He set the lube on the bed, working on your pants and pulling them off you. He stood back for a moment, admiring the sight beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, y/n,” he murmured, partially in awe and partially out of pride. You blushed, turning your head so you weren’t looking directly into his caramel colored irises that never seemed to miss a thing. He chuckled, the sound of his belt jingling as he undid it filling the room, accompanying his lust filled voice. You watched as he slowly slid his pants off, leaving them in a pile with the rest of the clothing on the floor. He came over you yet again, his mouth clashing with yours as his fingers skimmed down your body. Your arms came around his neck, holding him to you as you sucked on his lower lip. Then his fingers slipped underneath your waistband, making you whine as he teased the flesh around your fully erect dick.

He grinned against your skin, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he continued to tease you. “I could tease you for hours, baby. I can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispered, his voice gruff from arousal and lust. You licked your bottom lip, finally taking the plunge and accepting his offer. You wanted what he wanted.

He slowly pulled your boxers off, your cock finally springing free from it’s cloth-confined prison. He tossed your boxers behind him, letting them pool on the floor and then picking up the lube. You glanced down, noticing the impressive tent in his own boxers. The snap of the cap brought you out of your thoughts, looking back up at him as he squeezed the bottle and then closed it, his lubed-up hand wrapping around your cock and stroking slowly. You let your head fall back against the bed, letting out a few labored breaths as he stroked you expertly. You were so turned on, your stamina was slashed in half. His mouth went back to yours, taking over and dominating you with ease.

His fingers snaked between you, pressing against your entrance lightly. You let out a small gasp, unprepared for the light pressure but relaxing and letting his finger slide into you slowly. Your heart was jackhammering inside your chest, nervousness and excitement battling for dominance inside you as Spencer continued his movements. The burn was minimal, the lube helping his finger. “Just relax, baby. We can always stop if you want to,” he reassured, slowly pulling his finger out to the tip and then pushing it back in slowly.

You shook your head. “N-No, I’m fine. Keep going, please,” you said breathlessly, attaching your lips to his collarbone and sucking gently.

“Ok,” he whispered, kissing your forehead and continuing. He then pulled his finger out, coating a second finger with lube and then slowly pressing them inside you. He held them inside you, letting you get used to the feeling and waiting for the burn from the stretch of muscle to subside. You let out a whine, wanting him to keep going and he happily obliged you. “You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n. You’re doing so well. Taking my fingers so well, baby,” he praised lightly, pumping his fingers in and out of you and working you open slowly.

You arched and moaned when he stroked over a particularly pleasurable spot inside you. He grinned, pressing his fingers against that spot again and again. He then pulled his fingers back and added a third, pushing them into you a bit quicker. He followed the same pattern, letting you get used to the sensation and then working you open a bit more so you could accompany _him_. Of course, his eidetic memory let him abuse sensitive areas all over your body while he prepped you, making you keen and moan and ache for him. You had never wanted him so badly. Spencer was attractive, yes. You weren’t fucking blind. But you had never wanted him to fuck you so badly until now.

Finally, Spencer got impatient, removing his fingers and grabbing the lube bottle once more. “Enough with this,” he growled, reaching into the bedside drawer and taking out a foil packet, ripping it deftly and rolling a condom on. He coated his cock thoroughly in lube, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. He paused for a moment, confirming that he could fuck you senseless, “do you still want to do this? All you have to do is say stop and I’ll stop. We can cuddle and watch movies or something instead.”

You scowled, sexually pent up and needy. “Spencer, please dear god just fuck me. I need you,” you said firmly.

He nodded, resuming what he was doing. He lined himself up, pressing into you slowly. You forced your muscles to relax as he planted his arms by your head, pushing in slowly and holding himself inside you, letting you get used to him being inside you. You were panting, sweat beading on your forehead as you relaxed. The burn was starting to dissipate, the only thing remaining being immense pleasure. “I’m going to move, ok baby?” he said softly. You nodded, raking your nails down his back as he started to thrust lazily. He shifted, the tip of his cock pressing against that one spot. You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut and losing yourself to the pleasure burning through your system, more heat pooling your stomach as your cock twitched.

“Fuck,” Spencer muttered breathlessly, “you are so fucking tight. I’m going to move a little faster. Tell me if I need to slow down.”

“O-Ok Spence, ah, feels good,” you pant, your fingers finding his hips and digging in softly. His hips started rolling faster, making you keen and push back down to meet each thrust. Spencer took that as a que to move faster, his cock driving into you and hitting that sweet spot dead on every time. “Ah, Spencer, don’t… don’t stop, please,” you beg, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock perfectly—Christ—you’re perfect, y/n. So good for me,” he praised, his chest heaving. He pulled back onto his knees, making the angle better and so he could stroke your cock while he took you. He stroked you efficiently, driving you even closer to the edge. “I want you to cum for me, baby. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy and cum for me?” he asked, making your cock twitch and pulse even more. You nodded frantically, opening your eyes to look at him as you neared your climax. “That’s it. Look at me while you cum. I want to see how good I’m making you feel.”

He kept thrusting, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he drove you both the to the brink of release. He timed his strokes with his movements, moans spilling from your mouth. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.

He smiled, acknowledging that as he drove in and out with more vehemence. He stroked you faster, making you arch up to buck into his thrusts. “I’m close, baby. Fuck you feel so good. Cum whenever you’re ready, baby. Cum for me,” he said in a pant. With that and a skillful stroke into your prostate, you came, ribbons of cum shooting onto your stomach as Spencer fucked you through orgasm. His strokes stuttered, a groan leaving him as he came back over you and buried his dick deep inside you, cumming. Both of you were breathing hard, sweat misting your skin and the smell of sex lingering between your bodies. Spencer pulled out, kissing you on the forehead and then standing up, taking the condom off and tying it off, walking into the attached bathroom to dispose of it.

He smiled when he came back, laying down and pulling you up against him to cuddle up. “That was really good,” you murmured, fucked out of your mind. You had never climaxed so hard in your life.

“Glad I made it worth-while,” he joked, resting his chin on the crown of your head, “are you tired? We need to clean up.”

“’M very tired. You may have fried my brain,” you mumbled, nuzzling into his chest.

He laughed, the two of you holding each other and coming down from orgasm, basking in the feeling togetherness.


	2. Best Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: choking, slight daddy kink, dom/sub, edging, orgasm delay, degradation. Oh there's an L bomb at the end too. 
> 
> Welp there ya go.

Your eyes flittered open, revealing the dark room around you. You heard the telltale jingling of Spencer’s keys in the door. Spencer had been gone all week on a case in Colorado. He had called you when he got the chance, but it wasn’t very often. You were excited he was back, but it was like 2 in the morning. You closed your eyes, listening to sounds of Spencer moving around the apartment you shared. He came down the hall, opening the door to the bedroom and closing it behind him. He was clearly trying to be quiet, although you were already awake. Your body was attuned to his, meaning you could sense him and feel him. You almost always could.

You heard the light clatter of his shoes on the hardwood and shuffling of clothing before the bed dipped and there was an arm around your bare chest. Spencer’s lips were in your hair, the sound of his breathing making you sigh. You opened your eyes, turning over and then snuggling into his dress shirt clad chest.

“I missed you,” you mumbled sleepily, feeling his heartbeat under your palm.

You could sense his smile. “I missed you too, baby. Were you a good boy while daddy was away?” he asked. You instantly knew what mood he was in. Sometimes he slipped into his more dominant persona when cases ended badly or when he felt he needed to reassure himself that he could take care of someone. You didn’t answer, simply nodding as he played with your hair. You exhaled, already feeling happier by his mere presence. “Use your words, little one. Tell me you were a good boy,” he reprimanded, his voice carrying that dominant demeanor, yet it was still gentle. Still soft and comforting.

“I behaved while you were away. Just missed you,” you murmured, giving him what he wanted. Sometimes you decided it was worth being on your best behavior. This week had been one of those times. Work had been stressful, and the hours had been long. It hadn’t been a particularly good week, either. The stressful weeks seemed 10 times harder when Spencer was gone, but you opted to save your energy and follow his rules.

“Good boy. I missed having you in my arms. I hate sleeping without you,” he whispered in your hair.

“Me too. This week sucked, especially without you. Work was hard and so fucking long,” you mutter, frustrated by the very idea of work. You were happy tomorrow was Friday, which meant a weekend, which meant no work for two days.

“Language,” Spencer admonished.

“Sorry, daddy,” you snicker, a twinge of brattiness making an appearance.

Usually Spencer would reprimand you for the attitude, but he seemed to let it go. He was more than likely tired, and jet lagged, meaning he wasn’t in the mood to keep his dominance up. That was fine with you. You were equally as tired. “The team wants to go out tomorrow night. Do you want to go? I know you haven’t them yet and they really want to meet you,” Spencer asked. You perked up a bit, excited by the idea despite your tiredness. You nodded but didn’t offer anything past that. “Are you tired?” he asked, amused.

“Mmhm… very tired. Shut up so I can sleep,” you answer, grinning into his chest.

“Excuse me?” he asked, losing his soft edge.

“I mean, please stop talking so I can sleep, and we can talk in the morning,” you amend quickly, not wanting to set him off.

“That’s what I thought. I’m going to change clothes. Go to sleep, little boy,” he ordered, his voice soft and gentle again.

“Good night, daddy,” you murmur.

“Good night, baby. Sleep well.”

* * *

The next day passed in an odd blur, your focus being on finishing work. You found that if you simply turned all your focus towards working, the day seemed to go by quicker. You said a quick goodbye to your coworkers when 5pm rolled around and then got out of there, driving to the apartment to change clothes. You traded your suit for jeans, a basic gray t-shirt, and a black bomber jacket. A simple look that you could go to a bar or club in. Then you went to doing chores around the apartment, waiting to go out as Spencer got off an hour later than you did and had told you to meet him and his team at the bar.

When 5:50 rolled around you left, taking the subway to downtown D.C. and walking the rest of the way to the bar Spencer had sent you the address for. You spotted him instantly. Spencer was tall so it wasn’t difficult. You went inside, smiling as you approached Spencer and his team members who were all sitting at a table, talking amongst one another. Spencer smiled at you when he noticed you approached, pulling you into a brief hug and kissing you on the side of the head.

“Hey,” he greeted, a broad grin on his face.

“Hey yourself,” you said back, reciprocating his smile.

He turned his attention to the rest of the people watching the two of you, broad grins on all their faces at the sight of you both. “Y/n, this is Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau but we call her JJ, Aaron Hotchner, and David Rossi. Team this is Y/n Y/l/n. My boyfriend,” Spencer said confidently, a hint of pride in his voice as he said the last bit.

You extended your hand to the large and incredibly good-looking black man who had been introduced as Derek Morgan, shaking his hand. “Derek. Nice to meet you, man. Spencer has told us a lot about you,” he said with a toothy smile.

You laughed, “I hope that’s a good thing.” You shook hands with everyone, greeting them and making a bit of small talk.

“Shots? Anyone?” Emily asked, looking at JJ and Penelope and then to you, her eyebrows raised. You shook your head, declining the offer. Spencer did the same, linking his fingers with yours as you watched the others, not saying much as they had a conversation.

You leaned over to say something to Spencer, your voice fighting the music, “I’m going to get a drink. Be right back.” He looks at you and nods, releasing your hand and watching you walk away for a split second before turning his attention back to his friends. You walk to the bar, patiently waiting for a chance to flag down the bartender. You unconsciously zoned in on a conversation behind you, listening to the conversation.

“No, please just leave me alone. I’m not looking for a date,” a woman said, making you turn your head to see what was happening.

“Ohhh come on, darlin’. Loosen up, hm?” A man leered, making you scowl.

You think on your feet, abandoning your spot at the bar and stepping behind the woman. “She said to leave her alone, man. Back off and go find someone else,” you say authoritatively, positioning yourself between the two and protecting the woman who looked thoroughly freaked out.

“And why should I? Get out of the way, bitch,” he spits, trying to shake you.

You double down, not letting him have an inch. “Because she said no, now back off before I break your god damn jaw,” you snarl, making him mutter something under his breath and walk away. You turn back around, giving a small smile to the woman you were protecting. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to try anything,” you say.

The woman smiles, “no, no. I appreciate it. Can I buy you a drink out of thanks?”

You shake your head, “no need. Have a good evening.” With that you take a different spot by the bar, flagging the bartender down and ordering a drink. Within 5 minutes your making your way back over to Spencer and the rest if his team, or what’s left of it anyway. He seems to be talking with David Rossi, focused on his conversation. You can’t help but marvel in the way he looks, his face lighting up when he gets truly passionate and excited about things. You take a stance by his side, smiling at him and listening to his conversation.

“How was your day?” Spencer asked, turning his attention to you.

“Oh, it was just long. Although I think I just made a woman’s night,” you say, a bewildered look on your face.

There was a razor edge to Spencer’s voice when he asked, “and how did you make her night?” You realize how you came off and scrambled to explain, not wanting to make Spencer jealous. Sometimes it was fun, but tonight you weren’t in the mood. You were supposed to be on your best behavior, so to speak.

“Oh no, no, no. Not like that. Some guy wanted to get into her pants and kept bugging her, so I stepped in and scared him off. He was just being a dick,” you explain, waving it off.

Spencer nods, understanding what you had meant and smiling, “that was very nice of you, y/n.” He leaned down, lowering his voice so only you could hear what he was saying, “daddy will have to reward you later for being so good. Well, as long as you continue to behave, that is.” Your eyes widen but you nod, absolutely ok with that plan. Didn’t have to tell you twice.

By the time the night wound down, you were still fairly sober. You had opted to take it easy on the drinks because Spencer would more than likely want to rip your clothes off when you both got home. You took the train back to the apartment, walking with your hands linked together and laughing as Spencer made some dry physics joke. You rested your head on his shoulder in the elevator and walked next to him to your door. As you were unlocking it he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear, “go inside and go to the bedroom and strip. I want you naked on top of the bed when I get in there.”

You nod but he grips your hips, stopping you from opening the door and entering your shared apartment. “Excuse me?” he asks, and you instantly know what he wants.

“Ok, daddy,” you say innocently, stepping inside as he releases you. You hear him say “that’s better” as you move down the hallway, ripping clothes off as you went and leaving them like a trail down the hall. When you enter the bedroom, you strip your boxers off and flop on the bed, moving up to lay your head on the pillows and waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more. You think about getting up and going to find him, confused as to what’s taking him so long. You were concerned he had hurt himself but the telltale footsteps moving down the hall discouraged you and you laid in wait patiently.

“Good boy,” Spencer praises when he steps into the bedroom to find that you followed his instructions perfectly. You look at him, finding his hazel eyes dilated, his face twisted as his arousal grew. You were hard in an instant, his lips twitching as he resisted the urge to smile arrogantly at you. “Are you going to be a good boy and do everything your told?” he asks, his tone somewhat teasing.

“Yes sir,” you reply, your eyes watching his rake down your body.

“Good,” Spencer said, his fingers going to the buttons of his vest and unbuttoning them deftly. He shrugged it off slowly, walking to his closet and opening it, hanging it up. He kept himself at the door of the walk-in closet, giving you perfect view of him as he stripped down into nothing but his boxer briefs. While Spencer wasn’t very bulky, he was still muscular, the slight definition of his abs making your mouth water for him. You silently thanked god that he was attracted to men and that out of everyone in the world he wanted you.

He sauntered over to the bedside, the gears in his mind turning as he decided what he wanted to do with you. He pointed to the available space on the bed in front of him, explaining what he wanted, “on your back, your head towards me.” You understood what he wanted. He wanted to fuck your throat as deep as he could possibly get. You weren’t complaining; you were more than willing to suck Spencer off to no tomorrow. You scrambled into position quickly, scooting up so your head was hanging over the edge of the bed just a little to get a better angle. “Safe word?” Spencer asked. Safety always came first between the two of you. Either of you could safe word out of something intense at anytime and neither one of you would be upset at the other.

“Legacy.”

“And if you can’t talk?”

“Snap twice for slow down, three times for stop completely,” you say. Spencer lets out a breath of approval, already palming himself through his dark purple boxer briefs that accentuated every inch of his glorious body. You knew he was teasing you by deliberately making you wait. If not for him standing there, you would have stroking your aching dick already.

“What do you want, baby?” Spencer asks.

You smirk, knowing exactly what to say to get a small rise out of him. You had been good all night. Now you wanted to loosen his control. “I want your cock down my throat,” you say with a hint of attitude. His hand came down across your cheek quickly, a small sting left in its wake.

“Watch your mouth. You said you’d be a good boy for daddy, y/n. If you’re not, I’m not going to give you what you want. Now tell me again. What do you want?” Spencer warned, not letting his control slip for a second.

You know he’s serious. He will deny you. He’s done it before. You drop the attitude immediately, too needy and aroused to push your luck. “Can I please have your cock, daddy? Please?” you beg.

“That’s better. Of course you can, baby,” Spencer cooed, hiding his arrogance. He pulled his boxers off, kicking them to the side and stepping in front of you, sliding the tip of his cock over your lips. You open your mouth, letting his slide in a fraction of the way. Spencer moaned, his hands slipping into your hair at the side of your head and gripping tightly. “Fuck… I missed your mouth. You suck my cock so fucking well. And you love it, don’t you? Such a whore for me. Only for me,” Spencer gritted out. You licked the underside of his shaft, hollowing your cheeks and drawing out another moan from his mouth. He slid in deeper, thrusting into your mouth with shallow thrusts.

Your fingers knotted into the comforter, gripping them with white knuckle force as you resisted the urge to start stroking yourself. You were achingly hard, precum already leaking out of you. You moaned around his cock, enjoying this as much as he was. “Fuck this,” Spencer breathed, his hips suddenly snapping forward, the tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat. You instinctively swallowed around him, gagging lightly. Spencer stroked two fingers over to column of your throat, feeling his cock press against it through your skin. A dark laugh left his chest, your cock twitching at the sound. “Look at you… hard and needy simply from taking my cock down your throat. That’s all it takes to get you off. You just need my dick in your mouth. God… such a dirty fucking slut for me. That’s it, baby. Take it all. Fucking choke on it.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would have cum from that litany of words alone. He pulled out suddenly, his hand going to the bedside drawer and opening it, fumbling with the contents. “Hands and knees,” Spencer ordered briskly. You flipped over and got into the position he wanted quickly, your chest heaving as you took in air. Sweat misted your skin, arousal heavy in the air. You heard the sound of a cap snapping open and then two fingers were inside you, a hiss of breath escaping from in between your teeth at the sudden burn. The burn dissipated quickly, Spencer’s long fingers scissoring and stretching you open. The tips of his fingers suddenly stroked over your prostate, making you jump slightly and moan out of immense pleasure.

A third finger slipped inside you, working you open quickly. You could feel his patience slipping away as he grew even more aroused. “What do you want?” Spencer asked, his voice thick and husky with his own want.

“I want you inside me. Please,” you plead shamelessly, “please. I need you inside me.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Spencer teased, removing his fingers and thrusting inside you in one quick move. You moaned, the sound loud and downright pornographic. He wasted no time, his fingers digging into your waist to the point you would bruise as he pulled you back into him to meet every thrust. Moans spilled from your throat, mixing with his moans and obscenities. “Christ, y/n. You’re so fucking tight. You take my cock so well, baby.” He shifted, changing his angle just slightly and then thrusting forward, his cock hammering right into your sweet spot, making you keen and groan from pleasure.

He pulled back and then pushed in roughly, hitting that spot again and again, driving you to the edge with expert skill. “F-Fuck, Sp-Spencer please. I can’t fucking take it,” you pant out, your eyes closing and your body shuddering as you fought orgasm. He hadn’t given you permission to cum yet.

Spencer wrapped his arm around you, pulling you up and back into his chest, his mouth by your ear. “I don’t fucking _care,_ baby. You’re going to take my cock as long as I fucking give it to you. This is what you wanted, so this is what you get, whore,” he growled. You whimpered, his cock pounding into you at a merciless pace. His other hand came around, finding the sides of your throat and squeezing, cutting off your blood flow. You could feel him smirking against your skin, arrogance radiating off him as he fucked you. He kept squeezing, black dots speckling your vision as the euphoric high set in, mixing with your building climax.

He let go of your throat, letting blood flow properly again, his thrusts getting impossibly faster and harder. You thought you might actually break from the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. His lips were on your throat, sucking and biting, leaving marks that screamed his dominance over you. “You like that don’t you, slut? You like it when daddy squeezes that pretty throat of yours and fucks you?” he growled, his hand finally wrapping around your dick and stroking harshly, “No need to even answer. I know you fucking _love_ it. You love it when I lose my mind every time I slip inside this tight body of yours and fuck you fast and hard.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, closing your eyes again as you fight to stay on the edge of climax without toppling over.

“Yes _what,_ whore?” he spat, another hard stroke nearly making you cum.

“Yes, daddy. Please, I need to cum. Can I cum? Please?” you ask, your restraint starting to slip. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“You can take it. Just a little longer, baby. Then you can cum. Just take my cock inside you a little longer,” he commanded. The hand at your throat started squeezing again, cutting off blood flow once again. Sweat was dripping off your body, your entire body shaking as you barely held yourself together. He released your throat from his grip, his hand sliding down and splaying again your stomach, holding you tightly to him. His thrusts starting to stutter, his orgasm close to consuming him. “I’m gonna cum and you’re going to cum at the same time as me, ok baby?”

You nodded frantically, a labored breath leaving you as he stroked you faster. He thrust inside you a few more times before saying, “cum.” He held himself inside you, cumming while you came at the same time, shooting thick ribbons of cum all over his hand. Both of you were panting and dripping sweat, his head resting on your shoulder as you both rode out orgasm.

“God…” you breathed.

Spencer chuckled; his breathing still hard. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You were so good for me. So good. You’re so perfect. Christ, I love you, y/n,” Spencer murmured against you skin, his lips brushing over your ear.

You smiled, feeling thoroughly worn out. “I love you too, Spencer. Can we please… can we please clean up now? I am so tired.”

Spencer laughed, pulling out as he went soft. “Let’s clean you up and get you into bed,” Spencer said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel abt this one. It's alright.


	3. Melt Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: bondage, wax play, a lot of making out, spencer soft doms in this one, praise kink, stripping, teasing, begging, cum eating, orgasm delay.
> 
> Enjoy :)

You unlocked the door to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Doctor Spencer Reid, and stepped inside, tossing your work bag across the room with a deep exhalation. Work had been exhausting. And stressful. Your boss had been up your ass all week about budget reports this and annual spending that. It wasn’t your fault. Things happened and sometimes money needed to be moved around. You just balanced the numbers; you didn’t call the shots as to how money was spent. You really didn’t understand why he had chosen to spend fifteen minutes of your lunch break to yell at you about it. It was out of your hands. If anything, it was his fault.

You slipped your dress shoes off, leaving them out of the way of the door so Spencer wouldn’t trip when he came in. You padded over to the couch, flopping onto it with a tired groan. You just needed to rest your eyes. Just for a few minutes. You would just take a second and close your eyes and then you would change clothes and start making plans for dinner. You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath in as you tried letting go of all your stress and anxiety from the work week.

You jumped awake when you felt a hand shaking you awake gently, your eyes fluttering open. You pushed up onto one forearm, trying to shake off sleep. “I’m up, I’m up,” you say quickly, looking around. Spencer laughed softly, giving you one of his amused smiles. He was sitting on the edge of the couch next to you, still dressed in his work clothes. You must have fallen asleep. You were just so exhausted when you walked in the door, sleep was bound to happen when you decided to rest your eyes. You let out a sleepy sigh, dropping back down and closing your eyes, trying to go back to sleep rather than get up and get on with the rest of your evening.

“That good, huh?” Spencer asked teasingly. You opened your eyes, glaring at him. You thought about smacking him but refrained from doing so, knowing that wouldn’t end well for you. While you and Spencer hadn’t had sex in the past few weeks, you knew that he was more than willing to drive you crazy sexually as payback.

“Sorry,” you mumble, realizing how you were coming off by trying to ignore him and go back to sleep, “hi, Spence. How was work?”

“It was fine. Everything has been somewhat slow because we haven’t had any new cases. How was your day? You look exhausted and very stressed out,” Spencer said softly. He was being soft, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his lap and go to sleep. Or make out. Whichever came first, honestly.

“This week has been terrible. My boss took up a quarter of my lunch hour yelling at me about spending and the budget and it wasn’t even my fault. I don’t decide how money is spent, I just budget and balance what I’m told to. I’m just tired and frustrated on so many levels,” you complained, rolling your eyes at the thought of your dickish boss. The guy needed to take a chill pill… or do drugs. Either was fine with you, as long as he pulled that stick out of his ass.

“I’m sorry baby. I know how hard you work. How about we order Chinese and watch a movie on the couch?” Spencer suggested.

You grinned. “Star Wars?” you both suggested simultaneously. You both laughed, Spencer’s warm laugh making your mood lighten automatically. “Then that’s settled. I’ll order while you go change clothes,” Spencer said. You could feel the shift in atmosphere, Spencer’s more domineering nature taking over and leaving no room for arguments. You were fine with that. You didn’t want to think after the long, drawn out day you had. Spencer stood and you clambered off the couch and down the hall, entering the bedroom you shared. The walls were an olive green, everything accented by dark wood and lamps. It gave the room a certain ambiance the both of you enjoyed.

You shuffled over to the closet, hanging up your things and pulling out an old t-shirt of Spencer’s, the need for extra comfort sparking within you. Spencer was someone you felt safe with. Secure. And right now, you needed the feeling of security. It was a worn Star Trek shirt that was a little big on you. Mostly because Spencer was taller than you were. You flicked the closet light off, making your way over to your dresser and pulling out a pair of navy-blue lounge pants. You walked out of the bedroom to find Spencer on the phone, calling in the Chinese food. You walked over to one of the many, many bookshelves, looking at the set of Star Wars DVDs on the shelf and trying to decide which one to watch.

“Empire Strikes Back,” Spencer called out, making you look back at him and scowl in mock distaste.

“A New Hope is so much better, though,” you complain.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Y/n. I’m telling you. Empire Strikes Back is so much better. 97% of Star Wars fans gave it a positive rating, making it the most popular Star Wars film based on viewer opinion,” Spencer argued. You narrow your eyes further but give in, pulling The Empire Strikes Back off the shelf and walking over to the TV stand, hitting the on button on the DVD player and popping the movie in. “I’m going to change clothes. The food should be here in a little while. Wait… are you wearing one of my shirts?” Spencer asked, quirking a brow curiously. You blush, your cheeks tinging a light shade of pink as you give him a small nod. Spencer grins, walking over and kissing the crown of your head. “That’s really cute,” he states bluntly, walking away and down the hall.

You wait for him patiently, getting up and retrieving a blanket from one of the small closets in the hallway and pouring yourself a drink. You didn’t drink very often, and seldom did you get drunk, but you just needed something strong tonight. You grabbed a bottle of water to accompany it after the scotch and then sat back down on the couch, setting the glass on a coaster on the wooden coffee table. Spencer came back down the hall dressed in black lounge pants and an old Caltech t-shirt. Spencer sat on the other end of the couch and then patted his lap, reading your mind. You happily climbed into it, shifting with him as he laid down, letting you lay between his legs. You rested your head on his chest, clicking the play button on the TV remote and starting the movie.

After about twenty minutes there was a knock on the door. You got up, watching Spencer go over to the door and thank the delivery guy, coming back with a white plastic back. He set the bag on the coffee table and then went into the kitchen to get himself a fork. You thought it was hilarious that a genius couldn’t use chopsticks. He could memorize textbooks in a matter of minutes and repeat it back to you perfectly, but he couldn’t ‘scrounge for dinner with a pair of number two pencils’ as he said. He shot you a glare when you laughed, silently teasing him about it. “Shut up, y/n,” he grumbled.

“What?” you say defensively, “I didn’t even say anything. I just laughed!”

“I know what you were thinking,” he shoots back. You just roll your eyes and continue to laugh, picking up some noodles with your chopsticks and eating, turning your attention back to the screen. You both eat in silence, paying more attention to the movie but both of you ending up on the couch in you original positions as soon as you finished eating. You reveled in the feeling of being in Spencer’s arms, trying to let your frustrations melt away. Your work frustrations, however, were replaced with sexual frustration. You were growing hornier by the second, sexual need coiling inside you like a spring.

Spencer’s hands started to roam after a few minutes, slipping up the back of your shirt, the act seemingly innocent. His job as a profiler gave him the ability to read you like a book, something you were thankful for at times. His fingers brushed up your back lightly, caressing your skin and then resting there for a few minutes as though all he was doing was touching you a little more. After a few more minutes his hands snaked down, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your lounge pants and teasing the skin. Spencer gave an amused chuckle at his findings. “Commando? Feeling bold, are we?” Spencer whispered, smirking down at you.

You shrugged, deciding to play his game. “Didn’t feel like putting boxers on,” you reply, trying to sell your innocence. Spencer doesn’t say anything, his eyes going back to the screen. His hands slip under your waistband fully, gripping your ass and squeezing, a sharp breath escaping your throat. Spencer hummed his amusement, paying no attention to you as he teased you, every once and a while squeezing your ass. Two can play that game. You slipped one of your hands under his shirt, gripping his skin and tracing his abs with one of your fingers. You smirked when you saw how it effected Spencer, your fingers lingering and then sliding up, teasing his pectoral. You made a mental ‘fuck it’ turning all your attention to seducing him rather than the movie.

You started kissing his neck, licking and sucking and nipping up to his ear and then back down to the other side. Spencer looked down, hindering your movements. He leaned down, taking over in an instant, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue plunging into your mouth. He sucked on your bottom lip, expertly extracting a small whimper from your lungs as he continued making out with you. Then Spencer stopped paying attention to the movie, turning all his focus to you and making out with you. You both were sliding your hands all over each other, your tongues and mouths colliding with each other’s again and again. After a few minutes Spencer pulled back, his eyes burning with arousal, passion, and lust. “Let’s… take this to the bedroom. Shall we?”

You just nodded, disconnecting from him and then laughing as he suddenly grabbed you, picking up and continuing to kiss you while you laughed against his mouth. He put you on the bed, his body over yours. “Um… Spencer?” you ask, making him pause.

“Yes?”

“Could you please, um, take me out of my head? I just want to feel. I don’t want to think. Today has been rough and I just need to turn my mind off,” you ask, your tone shy. You could feel yourself blushing.

“Of course, I can, baby. Get up and get the sheet we use for wax play out of the closet and put it on the bed while I prepare everything else,” he ordered, slipping into his dominate persona with ease.

“Yes sir,” you throw out as he got off you, letting you up. You walked into the closet, flicking the light on and easily locating the old sheet he was talking about. You snatched it, turning the light off and then walking back into the bedroom, unfolding it and then throwing it over the bed, making sure everything was protected. You turned, standing awkwardly as Spencer stood watching you, letting the candles start to melt. He had lube and a condom on the table, a first aid kit next to it just incase something happened. There was water sitting on the nightstand as well, for both drinking and for cooling the skin down should something happen. Safety came first. Always.

Spencer sauntered over, a slow, dominate, sexy stride that exuded power and control and confidence. You felt a little weak in the knees just from him walking over to the bed and sitting down. He crooked a finger and pointed at a spot in front of him, silently ordering you to stand in front of him. You swallow, your heart starting to race just a little, your body coiling with anticipation. You walk over to where he wanted you, stopping and bowing your head, looking at the floor. “Strip. Slow,” Spencer ordered. You give a small nod and bend down, taking off your socks and dropping them on the floor next to each other. You rise to your feet slowly, your fingers sliding to the hem of your shirt, slowly taking it off your body and then dropping it to the floor. You repeated this until you were completely nude.

“You look so good, baby. I could just sit and look at your body for days…” Spencer says, trailing off as his caramel irises rake up and down your body, memorizing every inch of it. Your cheeks heat up at that, but you smile shyly. You always liked little praises and compliments like that, especially right now after the day you had. Spencer stood up, stepping to the side. “Lay on the bed, baby. Head and hands by the headboard.” You complied, getting on the bed and laying down, your head resting on a pillow by the headboard, your hands stretched up above your head slightly awkwardly. Spencer went to the foot of the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down a little so your arms could extent without any issues. He went over to the dresser, the sound of a drawer opening and then closing filling your ears.

Spencer came back over, coils of dark purple rope in his hand. “Safe words?” he asked, stopping at the foot of the bed and waiting expectantly.

“Legacy if I need you to stop completely. Lineage if I need you to pause, slow down, or fix something,” you say from memory (I’m sorry, I’m making up safe words up on the fly).

“Good. Remember those,” he instructs, his fingers starting to work on the ropes. He restrained you so you were spread eagle, each arm and legs spread and tied to each corner of the bed. He went over to the bedside table, picking up one of the two candle he had burning and lifting it up, dripping some of the wax on his wrist to make sure it wouldn’t burn you and then walking over to the bed, climbing onto it and then straddling your hips. “Ready, baby?” he asked, giving you a small smile.

“Yes sir.”

“Good boy,” he praised, tilting the candle and letting the first droplets of wax hit your skin. The feeling of intense hit and the slight burn making you flinch, but you quickly adjusted, basking in the feeling and trying to let your frustration go. You wanted to let go of all your thoughts and slip into a different state of mind. Spencer slowly moved his hand up, dripping the melted wax up you abdomen and to your right pectoral, letting the wax hit right around your nipple but not hitting it directly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your skin becoming warm and the tingling, burning sensation taking over everything. Spencer stopped, leaning over and taking an old plastic card off the nightstand. He took it to your skin, scraping off the dried wax and then beginning again, dripping the molten wax up your abdomen and then onto your left pectoral.

You felt goosebumps race up your arms, the sensation of sudden heat and then a small nip of pain as the sudden burn hit your skin in the form of melted wax. Spencer stopped again, scraping the wax off and then moving up your body, dripping wax up your arms, the red substance dripping all over your biceps and forearms. You felt your cock pulse, your arousal building as Spencer methodically sent the addictive tingling sensation up your body over and over again. He did this with all areas of your body except your groin, neck, and face for obvious reasons. By the time he was finished you were achingly hard and needy, your frustrations melting away from you, your only focus being what you were feeling and Spencer.

“What do you want?” Spencer asked, leaning over you, planting his hands at either side of your head and kissing your neck and throat, sucking softly on the skin. He was going to leave marks, but you didn’t care. You kind of liked it when he marked you. Claimed you. You struggled to find the words, the only response you gave being a whine and the arching of your hips upward. Spencer chuckled, the sound dark and smooth. “No, no, no, baby. Be a good little slut for me and use your words. Come on, baby. Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, his lips sliding down, his teeth nipping your collarbone.

“W-Want you,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip to contain noises from spilling out of you.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, you needy little thing. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” Spencer teased, one of hands moving down, his fingers sliding down your side. You whimper, your mind trying to piece the words together and then force them from your mouth. “So needy you can’t even tell me what you want… so desperate and helpless… use your grown-up words and tell me what you want. Just tell me. Come on, baby. Be good for me and do what your told.”

“F-Fuck me, please, sir,” you force out, your words mixing with a whimper as his fingers slide down to your thigh, his nails barely scraping your skin.

“Good boy,” Spencer praised softly, momentarily taking his hands off you and then scooting down, settling in between your spread legs. He popped the cap of the lube, coating his fingers and then closing the bottle, setting it down beside him carelessly. Two fingers teased your entrance, his fingers barely pressing inside as you relaxed, allowing him more access to you. You threw your head back, closing your eyes as Spencer made quick work of stretching you open. Spencer removed his fingers and then leaned back, taking his shirt off. He climbed off the bed, stripping quickly and then climbing back on the bed, picking up a foil packet. He tore it open, sliding a condom onto his very hard cock and then lining himself up, the tip of his cock barely pressing inside you as he came back over you. “Ready?”

“Yes sir. Please. I need you so bad,” you rasp, waiting for him in great anticipation. He slowly pushed in, the pleasurable feeling of fullness and pressure making you moan softly.

“You feel so good around my cock, baby. You’re so perfect. So, so perfect for me,” he praised, slowly pulling back and then pushing back in slowly, his cock hitting deep inside you. He carefully changed his angle, his cock sliding into you and brushing your prostate. That made you moan more, your arms pulling at the restraints. “I love it when you’re like this, needy and helpless underneath me but restrained, only able to take what I give you. It makes me so damn hard. You are so fucking tight, angel, _fuck._ ”

One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his lube-slicked fingers wrapping around your cock and stroking in a lazy pace. His mouth sealed over yours, claiming you further. You moaned into his mouth, absorbing the feeling of being completely at his mercy, your mind slipping further and further away from the stresses of day to day life and into a place that was completely your own. He fucked you slow and lazily, his mouth always somewhere on your skin, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

“Spencer, please…” you breathe.

“Do you want to cum, angel?” Spencer asked, knowing that was exactly what you wanted, but purposely withholding you from doing so. You nod frantically, trying to thrust up into his hand to no avail. “Show me how bad you want to cum for me, baby. Beg me for it. Show me how desperate you are to cum for me,” he commanded.

You wasted no time, the need to climax consuming you, your mind deep into subspace, “please, Spencer, please. I want to cum for you. Please. I need it so bad. I want it so, so bad. I can’t take it any longer… please.”

“Insatiable little minx,” Spencer taunted half-heartedly, still sliding in and out of you slowly, driving you absolutely insane.

“Spencer please! I c-can’t take anymore. Please. I need to cum so bad. Let me show you how good you make me feel. Please,” you plead, hoping you would say something that would get you your way.

Spencer’s lips brushed your ear, “who do you belong to, angel?”

“You. Only you, Spencer. Please,” you answer.

“Cum for me, baby,” Spencer said, picking up his pace and stroking you perfectly in time with his thrusts, “I want you to cum for me.” You cum on command, moaning his name as he fucked you through your climax, cum shooting onto your abdomen. His fingers snaked down, swiping through your ejaculate and then coming up, his fingers resting on your lips. You grant his fingers entrance, sucking softly and tasting yourself. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Spencer murmured, now motivated to chase his own high. His pace got faster, his thrusts harder as he fucked you senseless, cumming with a final groan of your name.

He dropped, gently collapsing on top of you and breathing hard. You closed your eyes, panting as you came down from your high. You felt on top of the world, your mind blank. It was like you were floating, the only other thing in your world being Spencer. He was the only one who ever made you feel this good. Spencer peeled himself off you, taking the condom off to dispose of it in the trash can in the attached bathroom. He came back, his fingers untying his knots deftly, freeing your hands. You stretched out, exhaling deeply and opening your eyes, revealing a very satisfied Spencer Reid.

“Thank you for that. It was just what I needed,” you murmur in appreciation.

“You’re welcome. Let’s shower and then go to bed. You were already tired when you got home today,” Spencer said softly.

“Ok.”

You get up, following him into the bathroom. Spencer turned on the water and then came back to you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly to him. “I love you,” Spencer whispered into your hair.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back. You both shower quickly, not wasting anytime dawdling under the water. Spencer had washed you and you had washed him, though, the need for intimacy consuming the both of you. You dried off and brushed your teeth, walking into the bedroom and picking up Spencer’s discarded shirt, slipping it over your head and then snagging some boxers from the dresser, slipping them on and then sliding into bed. Spencer followed, only putting on boxers and leaving everything else. “Can you read to me?” you ask, hope evident in your voice.

“Of course. What do you want me to read?” Spencer asked.

“Anything. I just want to listen to you read,” you respond truthfully. Spencer left the room and came back a moment later with a book in his hand. He climbed into bed, propping a pillow behind his back so he could sit up in the bed. You curled into his side, humming your contentment with this arrangement. He started reading some old French novel, translating with ease. You listened to him read, the sound of his voice lolling you gently to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys like the softer stuff or the rougher stuff? I'm just curious. i want to write stuff everyone likes.


	4. Caught Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: masochism, orgasm delay, overstimulation, degradation, bondage, impact play, punishment, sex toys, etc. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update this lol  
> Just an fyi, these will take a backseat should I get really sucked into writing Wildcard and The Shadows of Our Minds (other fics I'm working on). 
> 
> Thanks for your patience and hope you enjoy! :)

It was a Sunday. A rainy Sunday. A gloomy, cold, rainy Sunday and you were perfectly fine with that. Spencer was home for once, his team taking a few days to rest before being thrown back into their extreme workload. It was nice having him in the apartment on a weekend, the space more lively and homely rather somewhat dark and lonely. You were on the couch, laptop in your lap as you read some e-mails and scrolled through random sections of the internet. Your attention was drawn away from it when Spencer came out of the bedroom, strolling into your living room dressed in black jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, a gray dress shirt and a black CDG cardigan.

“Y/n, I have to go to JJ’s. She said it was important. I have to stop by that bookstore on 4th street anyways, so I’ll be gone for a while,” Spencer announced, walking over to where you were and giving you a kiss on the head.

“Alright. Be safe and tell JJ I said hi,” you replied, smiling at him as he went to the door, taking his messenger bag off the coat rack standing by the door and slinging it over his shoulder. “Love you, Spence!” you called after him.

“Love you too!” Spencer said as he exited the apartment with a wave. You went back to what you were doing, which was nothing in particular. You didn’t know how long Spencer would be out, knowing that ‘important’ could mean emergency or ‘important’ could mean Spencer’s assistance was required with something. He was reliable so you understood why people called on him. You were fine with it. You had things to do anyways, like cleaning some of the apartment and reorganizing some of the bookshelves with your books on them. You also had to make plans for dinner and take a shower considering you opted not to take one last night.

You decide to tackle the shower part last, after you were done cleaning. Then you could get clean after getting dirty. You start cleaning things up, taking knick-knacks off shelves and dusting them, placing them back after you were done. You went into the bedroom and collected your laundry, going down the laundry room of your apartment complex and doing a load. You came back up with fresh laundry, folding and putting things away, paying special attention to the way Spencer liked his vests hung. He was particular but that was fine with you. You really didn’t mind.

You kept going about all the chores you had to do, knocking them out in two hours. You collapse onto the bed you shared with Spencer, sighing to yourself. Now you truly had nothing to do and you felt as though you had copious amounts of energy. Your mind flicks to Spencer. The less innocent thoughts of Spencer filling your mind, making you smirk. Spencer was hot when he wanted to be. Sometimes he was on accident, although he was completely oblivious to it most of the time. You could feel the heat pooling in your groin as you continued down this path, your mind dreaming up things that you would never speak of out loud. Your arousal built, stretching like a lion that just woke up from a nap and was ready to prowl.

You turned your head, looking at the clock on the bedside table and reading the time. You probably had time to stroke one out before Spencer got back. He had errands to run on top of what JJ needed, so you could get it done. You unbuckled your belt and freed your semi-hard cock, your hand stroking as you quickly arrived at fully erect. You leaned over, reaching into the bedside drawer and taking some lube out, slicking your hand up and going back to the task at hand. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes and letting your head drop back against the pillows. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the dirty things you would let Spencer do to you, trying to get yourself over the edge quickly.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

Spencer’s voice made you jump nearly a mile high, your eyes snapping open and finding him leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed, a deviant smirk on his face. You swallowed, opening your mouth as you scrambled for an excuse or explanation, nothing coming to mind to save you from his impending wrath. His rules with you were clear. You touched yourself when he said so, not any other time. “I, uh… I was just—”

Spencer cut you off, holding his hand up, signaling you to stop talking. “No, no. No need to explain, y/n. Don’t even bother. You’re a terrible liar,” Spencer said, his voice razor sharp and predatory. You were in for it.

“It’s not my fault you’re a profiler,” you mumble under your breath, looking away from him.

“What was that, brat?” Spencer demanded, making your eyes widen. You just looked back at him, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He smirked again, chuckling, “that’s what I thought. I’ll admit, I was hoping you would do something like this. I can’t help it. While I love pleasuring you, it’s quite fun punishing you.” Your breath hitched in your throat, pupils dilating as anticipating a small amount of fear raced inside you. He straightened, stepping into the room and closing the door, his amusement clear on his face. His gears were already turning as to what he was going to do to you. You had your fun, now it was his turn. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you…” Spencer murmured, wickedly pleased with whatever plan was running through his brilliant head.

You swallow, taking a chance as Spence came towards you, climbing on the bed to lever himself over you. “W-What are you going to do, sir?” you ask nervously, your stomach swimming with excitement and anticipation.

Spencer chuckles softly, his mouth coming down and brushing your ear, nipping at the lobe softly. He was humming, his body reacting to yours as yours reacted to his. “I’m going to take your bratty ass over my knee and make sure you can’t sit down properly for weeks. Then I’m going to tie you up so that you can’t move and fucking _ruin_ you, baby…” Spencer promised darkly, sending a shiver up your spine at that declaration. “Now, you’re going to be a good boy for me, and you’re going to strip and kneel by the side of the bed while I get everything I need, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes sir,” you reply, damn near breathless already.

“Good,” Spencer said, moving off you and getting off the bed. You climbed off the other side, standing and taking off your clothes in a rush, folding them and kneeling where he told you to, your folded clothes beside you. You heard him rummaging in some of the drawers and moving around the room as he set up for whatever scene he was envisioning in his head. You felt yourself getting more and more worked up as the anticipation mounted. Spencer walked in front of you, sitting on the edge of the bed just out of your radius of vision. You continued looking at the floor, your eyes glued to the hardwood and your overturned palms that were resting on your knees. “Look at me, angel,” Spencer ordered.

Your eyes snapped to his, locking as he observed you, his eyes raking up and down your body. Heat stirred inside you, traveling to your groin and making your already hard cock twitch and pulse excitedly. “Stand up,” Spencer ordered, and you obeyed, standing and keeping eye contact with him the entire time. Spencer gave you a wicked smile and patted his thigh, making you let out a shaky breath. You noticed something resting next to him. It was a smaller wooden paddle, the wood dark with silver accents that traced the shape of it. This was going to hurt. You stepped towards Spencer’s side, his hand snaking around you and pulling you over his knees, helping you settle over them.

“Safe words?” Spencer asked.

“Legacy for stop, lineage slow down, pause, or fix something,” you reply.

“Good boy. I’m going start with my hand. Don’t count these out,” Spencer instructed, and you nodded, something Spencer clocked you for immediately. “You better spit something out of your mouth fast, brat, or else this is going to get a lot worse for you,” Spencer warned harshly, a newfound hardness entering his voice.

“Yes sir, I understand,” you say quickly, not wanting to risk further punishment.

“Good.” Spencer’s hand rubbed over your ass, his nails barely brushing your skin before leaving, his hand coming down a second later and leaving a small sting in it’s wake. This was the warmup, the pain before the real punishment began. He slowly built his pace, the hits becoming harder, but he still wasn’t using all his strength. Small grunts and winces leave your throat as he continues building his pace, each strike leaving a small nip of pain and heat and then subsiding before the next strike. He stopped after 20, his hand rubbing before he started using the paddle. “You’re going to count these, and you are going to thank me after each one, aren’t you angel?” Spencer asked, his tone laced with arrogance. He was teasing you.

“Yes sir,” you breathed, sweet anticipation coursing through your veins. You feel wood brush over your heated backside, cool and soothing before the pain.

“How many should I give you, hm? I’m thinking 30,” Spencer remarked. You knew that was a trap. If you agreed he would give you more, if you disagreed, he would give you more. You just stayed quiet, letting him decide. Spencer chuckled softly, “smart boy… you know better than to tell me what you deserve, don’t you baby?”

“Yes sir,” you reply.

“Are you ready, baby? I’m not going to go easy on you,” Spencer asked. If you actually weren’t comfortable you knew you could safe word out and he would stop immediately, but you felt safe regardless of how much this was going to hurt. It got the both of you off and you liked it as much as he did.

“Yes sir.” You tensed, anticipating the first blow.

Of course, it didn’t come. Instead, Spencer took the time to run his fingers up your back. “I’m not going to start until you relax, baby. If you’re going to learn anything, it has to hurt,” Spencer stated, his tone carrying that mischievous teasing that made you want to defy him just because he was being cocky. You rolled your eyes, exasperation washing over you at the blatant obviousness of that statement. “Did you just roll your eyes, angel?” Spencer asked.

“N-No sir,” you lied, mentally slapping yourself for forgetting he was a damn profiler. He could read you with his fucking eyes closed.

Spencer hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your neck. He hovered there for a few seconds, no doubt grinning. “Now you’ll have to take 40. Five for lying and five for being a disrespectful little brat and rolling your eyes. I’ll switch to my belt for the last ten if you keep it up, angel. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“No sir,” you answer quickly, shaking your head frantically. Spencer straightened, his fingers still tracing your spine gently as he waited for you to relax enough for his liking. The first strike made you yelp, more out of surprise than out of pain. He paused for a moment, waited for you to spit out a number and your thanks. “One. Thank you, sir.”

He brought the paddle down again with a dull thud and pausing again as he waited for you to continue counting and thanking him. “Two. Thank you, sir.”

This pattern continued, the pain becoming more and more prominent, heat and sting holding firm after every single smack. Spencer stayed quiet, letting you count without hinderance until the last ten. He rubbed his hand over one of your thoroughly bruised cheeks, admiring his handy work for a moment. “Do I need to use my belt, or have you gotten rid of that filthy attitude, little one?” Spencer asked, the sharp coldness returning once again.

“I’ll behave. I’ll behave, sir,” you pant.

“Ten more, then.” Spencer kept going, using most of his strength with this blow, “why am I punishing you?”

“31. Thank you, sir. Because I tried to cum without your permission,” you reply, wincing as his next strike came down, landing in a particularly painful area.

“And what have you learned?” Spencer queried.

“32. Thank you, sir. Not to touch what’s yours unless you say so,” you breathe, groaning when the paddle hit you again, his pace unwavering.

“And are you going to do it again?”

“33. Thank you, sir. N—ah—no, sir.”

“Who do you belong to?” Spencer demanded.

_Smack._

“34. Thank you, sir. To you, sir.”

“Good boy.” _Smack._

Six strikes later it was over. You lay over his knees, panting and starting to sweat. There was the snap of a cap and a sudden coolness was rubbed over your stinging skin. You sighed, the cool aloe relieving some of the pain you were feeling and making you relax. “You were such a good boy, baby, but we’re not done yet. I’m going to fucking wreck you, angel. I’m going to make you cum so hard you won’t pull this stunt again,” Spencer growled, his comment more of a promise than a threat. He rubbed the aloe into your skin, giving you a small break to recover before he wrecked you like he had promised. Spencer’s voice softened, “stand up, baby.” He helped you up, making sure you didn’t fall.

“Lay down. Legs spread,” Spencer ordered. You noticed the rope already tied to the bedposts, but they were only at the bottom posts. Your hands were going to free, or at least they might be. You did as you were told, laying and spreading your legs, the feeling of rope threading around your ankles making you sigh. Spencer stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes on yours as he slowly stripped himself. You mouth practically watered, his body becoming something you were easily addicted to, in and out of clothes. He smirked as he came over you, his hands grabbed your wrists and pinning them above your head. He nuzzled his nose against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips as he withheld his kiss on purpose. He let go of you, grabbing lube and covering his fingers in it.

Two went to working you open, his other hand planted firmly to support his weight above you. He went to sucking on your neck and collar bone, leaving small marks everywhere as yet another assertion of his dominance. A third finger slipped inside you, scissoring and stretching you open further. The burn of the stretch of muscle became more apparent but Spencer was taking his time, making sure you wouldn’t be in pain once he finally slipped inside you. He removed his fingers but to your surprise didn’t put on a condom, instead opting to slip inside you skin on skin. He coated his cock in lube, squirting some into the palm of his hand after he had coated himself in it. He positioned himself and looked to you, silently asking for consent.

“Go ahead. Please,” you whined, fully aware of how that came off. Spencer smirked but obliged you, his cock pressing into you slowly, making you feel every inch. A pleasure-filled moan broke free from your throat, spurring him on. He pushed in to the hilt, bottoming out and then slowly beginning to move. He came back over you, his lube-coated hand wrapping around your erection and slowly stroking. His other hand planted next to your head, his body trapping yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, a moan dying on your lips as Spencer began moving faster and thrusting harder. His lips found yours, trapping you in a kiss as moans spilled from you shamelessly and into his mouth.

“Is this what you wanted, angel?” Spencer asked, sucking a mark into your skin by your collarbone. You moan in response, your arms coming up and your nails digging into his back. You were going to leave your own marks, although yours weren’t necessarily on purpose like his. His hand moved with every thrust inside you, precum starting to leak out of the tip of your dick. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re not going to be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” Spencer growled, suddenly speeding up and hammering into you. A strangled moan is forced from your lungs as Spencer fucks into you mercilessly, your nails digging into his skin as he reasserts his dominance over you. His slick hand starts stroking you in time with his thrusts, nearly sending you over the edge on accident.

“S-Spencer, ple— _uhh_ —please. N-Need to cum,” you breathe, throwing your head back as he brushes over your prostate on a particularly deep stroke.

Spencer chuckles, sucking a mark into your neck and leaving sloppy kisses all over you. “Just a little bit longer, baby. You can wait a little longer to cum, can’t you?”

“Yes s-sir,” you stutter, your hands sliding down his sides and gripping his waist.

“Good. You take my cock so well, angel. You love it, don’t you? But you’re not hard to please. It’s not hard to please desperate little cocksluts like you,” Spencer growled, your eyes rolling back into the back of your skull from the pleasure as you tried to stop yourself from cumming on the spot. He noticed, stroking faster and fucking your harder, trying to make you lose control. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes, please. Need it so bad,” you pant, writhing in pleasure underneath him.

“Cum,” Spencer ordered. You did so obediently, thick ropes of cum hitting your abdomen as you screamed Spencer’s name as he fucked you diligently through orgasm. He didn’t stop stroking you, keeping you hard and needy as he hammered inside you and used you.

“Too much,” you whimper, trying to buck out of his hold as the tingly feeling of pins and needles took over your body.

Spencer leaned over you, biting the lobe of your ear, “this is what you wanted, angel. You wanted to be a greedy fucking brat, so this is what you deserve. You wanted to cum so bad, so I’m going to get at least one more out of you. Prove to me you can be a good boy and take it, you pathetic fucking slut.” You just whimper in response, your mouth going slack as pleasure mixed with overstimulation took over your body and brain.

“Fuck, Spencer, I can’t,” you pant, throwing your head back.

“Too fucking bad, baby. I don’t care what you want. I’ll use you however the hell I want. This is what happens when you try and get greedy. Brain dead little whore,” Spencer spat, still drilling into you. His stamina was extreme, his words driving you to the edge again. You were still hard and aching, pleasure blurring the lines of discomfort. Spencer kept stroking your dick, driving you both towards that orgasmic high you craved and only truly found satisfying when he gave it to you. “Who owns you, angel?” Spencer demanded, his voice harsh as he started losing his patience and control. He was coming apart like you were.

“You, fuck, you. Always you,” you declare, making him smirk in immense satisfaction.

“Damn fucking straight, baby. I’m the only one who could get you like this. You’re mine. All fucking mine. Don’t you ever fucking forget that your pleasure, your pain, your body… it’s fucking _mine_.”

“Sir, please,” you begged, unsure if you were begging him to slow down or for him to go impossibly harder.

“You asked for it, baby,” Spencer muttered, driving into you again and again and again, driving you absolutely insane. You were skirting the edge of climax, your muscles straining to hold back. “I want you to fucking cum, y/n. Fucking cum for me. Show me how fucking good I make you feel. Only me, baby,” Spencer demanded, watching you come apart at the seams. You came again, screaming in pleasure as orgasm struck you like a blow. You were panting and writhing, feeling fucked out of your mind. Spencer came after you, draining himself into you balls deep. He kept himself over you, breathing hard and looking disheveled from the force in which he fucked you. Sweat was dripping off him, his eyes dilated and his muscles tense.

“T-Thank you, sir,” you whisper hoarsely, cracking a euphoric smile. Spencer smiled down at you, mouthing what you assumed was ‘fuck’ and then pulling out carefully. He leaned over, picking a plug up off the bedside table and looking at you expectantly. You just nodded, letting him slip the plug inside you with ease. He clambered off the bed, freeing your legs and padded into the bathroom, coming back with a damp washcloth and cleaning off your stomach and chest. He laid down next to you, letting you roll over and lay partially on top of him.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so well. I love you so much, angel,” Spencer murmured softly, his fingers drifting through your hair, “do you need anything? I went really hard on you.”

“Can we lay here for a few minutes?” you ask quietly, still feeling thoroughly fucked out.

“Of course, baby, Are you ok? I lost it towards the end. I just want to know I didn’t hurt you.”

“Spence, I have safe words. I’m ok. You did what I wanted. You did nothing wrong,” you reassure, putting him more at ease. He was always scared he was going to seriously hurt you.

“Alright, as long as you’re sure. You’re fucking incredible, y/n y/l/n,” Spencer said admirably, smiling down at you.

You smiled shyly, “you’re not too bad yourself, Spencer Reid. After I regain my ability to walk, can we shower and then order food and cuddle?”

Spencer nodded, smiling and then leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead, “of course we can, angel.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, y/n.”


	5. Professor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: master kink, sir kink, student-teacher, blindfolds, petnames, office sex, semi-public sex, blow jobs, hand jobs, dirty talk, teasing, a little degradation. Enjoy!!
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update lol. Do you guys like stuff like this? Please tell me what you like in the comments! It helps me out!
> 
> (I suggest listening to the song 'Comfortable' by Lauv while reading because that's what I wrote this to)

The ringing of your alarm roused you from sleep. You picked your head up, looking at which alarm it was only to find it was the very _last_ alarm. The alarm that was a last resort that usually told you, you were fucked. “SHIT!” you exclaimed, practically jumping out of bed and throwing on clothes. Jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie, shoes, backpack, phone, wallet, key to dorm room. You looked around, making sure you had everything before damn near sprinting out the door. The walk—or _run_ , in your case—across campus was about seven minutes. You flew up the stairs of the humanities building, trying not to knock other students over as you barreled through the building.

When you got to your lecture hall, you looked through the window of the door, waiting for the professor to turn around so you could sneak in and take the last seat in the backrow. He turned, going to write something on the white board and you opened the door as quietly as you could manage, slipping inside and sitting down without drawing any attention to yourself.

“And does anyone know what the hypothalamus does?” the professor asked, turning around and looking out across the lecture hall. “How about you, in the back that just walked into class and sat down, thinking that I wouldn’t notice.”

You stilled, looking up from where you were pulling your notebook and pen out of your backpack and staring at him, mouth slightly agape from pure surprise.

“Well?” he asked, leaning against the desk in front of the whiteboard and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Um, the hypothalamus links the nervous system to the endocrine system through the pituitary gland. It is responsible for some metabolic processes and other processes within the autonomic nervous system,” you say, your voice wavering a bit. It’s not that you were unsure of your answer, it’s that you were caught off guard completely.

The professor nodded, giving you small, satisfactory smile. “Very good… what’s your name?”

“Um, y/n. Y/n y/l/n,” you called out.

“Well, very good, y/n. Alright, let’s talk about the limbic system,” he went on, turning back around and starting to write things out on the board. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, relief flooding you as you went back to pulling things out and starting your notes. The lecture was pretty standard, the professor going over everything on an anatomical scale so you could understand the physicality of psychology. The professor looked down at his watch, checking the time. “I don’t have anything else for today. You all may leave. Don’t forget that we will be going over the packet I assigned next class. You’re free to leave, except y/n. I need to speak to you,” he announced, everyone starting to pack up their things and leave, laughing and talking with one another.

You sat in the back row, slowly packing your things up to delay whatever he wanted to say by at least another minute. You threw your bag over your shoulders and walked down to the front of the lecture hall where the man was leaning against his desk, hands in his pockets. He was taller, lanky, more on the pale side, longer hair, dressed in a black suit, his dress shirt patterned with a gray and crimson sweater and black tie to complete the look. He had a small smile on his face, his eyes following you and watching you as you came to stand in front of him, your eyes nervously darting between his and the floor.

“You wanted to speak with me, professor?” you asked, trying not to let your voice waver from your nervousness.

“Yes. I wanted to discuss your lateness,” he said smoothly, his tone and body language visibly relaxed.

“Oh, yeah, um… sorry about that. I just woke up really late. I’m sorry if I interrupted or disturbed you in anyway,” you apologized, rubbing the back of your neck out of nervousness. You looked up at him, swallowing as you waited to determine for him to determine your fate, so to speak.

He smiled, his eyes warm and compassionate unlike many other professors. “It’s alright, y/n. You did incredibly well for coming in late. You answered a question I didn’t think you would be able to answer because you came in late. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. College is difficult for some and can take a toll on people mentally. I don’t want my students to fall behind because something is burdening them,” he explained, your body relaxing. He chuckled, your relief visible on your face.

You shook your head, giving him a tight smile, “no, I’m alright. I’m double majoring, so sleep is kind of non-existent.”

“Ah. What is your second major?” he queried, seemingly genuinely invested.

“Human communication,” you answered.

“Mm, makes sense. Well, if there is anything you need help with, I would be more than happy to help you, y/n. You seem incredibly bright. Office hours are 4pm to 6pm on weekdays. Don’t be afraid to reach out should you need it,” the professor said.

You nodded, “thank you professor… sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid.”

* * *

You sat in the library at one of the tables reserved for studying, scribbling down notes, and trying to make your life easier when you went to study later. Your packet was laying next to your books, diagrams and charts all over it as it went over the different parts of the nervous system and then related it back to psychology. You stared down at one section of the notes and then to the packet, realizing you had missed the part of the lecture where Professor Reid had gone over it. You opened up your email account, deciding to shoot him an email in hopes of avoiding office hours.

_To: Spencer Reid_   
_From: Y/N Y/L/N_   
_Subject: Packet Notes_

_Good afternoon, Professor,_   
_I was wondering if there was a reference in the textbook or a copy of the lecture I could use to fill out the first section of the notes packet. I missed it because I came in late._

_Thanks._   
_Sincerely,_   
_Y/N Y/L/N_

You went back to working, sitting at the table for another hour as you reorganized notes for other classes in your second major. You looked up at your laptop as it dinged, telling you there was a message sitting in your inbox.

_To: Y/N Y/L/N_   
_From: Spencer Reid_

_Y/N,_   
_I don’t have any photocopies, nor do I have a video of the lecture. You can come to my office within the next hour if you wish to go over it one-on-one. I’m not the biggest fan of technology, anyways. Or you can get the notes from a classmate, if you wish to do it that way._

_Sincerely,_   
_Doctor Spencer Reid_

You sighed, packing up your things and walking to the humanities building. You walked down the hallway, walking until you found the office labeled ‘Spencer Reid’. You took a deep breath in and knocked on the door, waiting for a response or to be let inside. A few seconds later the door opened, revealing Professor Reid and his office. The office was lighter than you had expected, light gray walls and dark accents creating a more sophisticated feeling in the room. The office was a decent size, allowing for a desk, chairs, and a small armchair as well as two bookshelves, books of all sorts crammed on the shelves. Papers cluttered the desktop, books piled on the corners as well as files and assignments. The wall behind his desk chair hung diplomas and certifications as well as awards. A photo of him and a group of 6 others celebrating something sat on a cabinet behind his desk as well.

“Y/n, please. Sit,” he said, motioning towards one of the two chairs that sat across from his desk. You did as you were told, setting your backpack on the floor, and taking out two pens and the study packet. He sat down next to you rather than across from you behind his desk. “So, what are you having trouble with?” he asked, taking one of the pens you offered him.

“Um, just the first section. I think I missed it. It goes in depth on the basis of psychosomatic symptoms of mental disturbances in relation to the brain and body,” you explained, showing him what exactly you were talking about and then flipping the page, “and then the diagrams based on those things that are meant to visualize the section.”

“Ah, alright,” he acknowledged, taking the packet from your hands, “so this is simply a diagram of the cortexes of the brain. We will go over those more in depth in the next week. This is a diagram connecting the cortexes, the nervous system, and then the extremities, showing the effect of psychosomatic symptoms on the body. They are color coded, but this is printed in black and white, which is why they are more difficult to read.”

“Oh. I see. Is there a colored copy I can borrow or snap a picture of?” you asked, “it’s more expensive to print things in color. I didn’t realize it would matter, but I can color code the items myself.” You looked up at him, a small plea in your eyes.

He smiled, nodding, “of course. I have an extra copy in my desk you can have.” He got up, rounding his desk, and opening one of the drawers, taking something out and then taking out a packet. He handed it to you, letting you take it from him before he put the folder back and retrieved something off his desktop. You assumed it was an answer key. He rounded the desk again, sitting back down in his chair and leaning back, flipping through the pages until he got to his diagrams.

A sudden thought struck you, a frown marring your face as you got lost in thought. “Um, professor?” you asked, slightly apprehensive.

“Yes?”

“How did you know I came in late with your back turned?” you asked, turning to look at him in the eyes.

He smirked, “I work for the FBI as well as here. I’m a profiler for the BAU. I’ve been trained to see smaller details and behaviors. I saw you from the window and then once I turned around listened to you come in. You took the last available seat in the back row, an attempt to not disturb anyone.” You gaped at him, blinking in surprise.

“You’re a professor and an FBI agent in one of the most difficult units in the FBI?” you asked, disbelief painted all over your face.

“Don’t look so surprised, y/n,” he began, leaning in, his smirk growing wider and more wicked, “you don’t want to find out what happens when you doubt me.” Your eyes went as wide as dinner plates, your throat working on a swallow as a nervous shiver mixed with slight sexual curiosity ran down your spine. A quick thought of ‘nope’ ran through your mind. Getting tangled up with a professor, at least ten years your senior, was not a good idea. “Now, where were we?” he asked, leaning back again.

Your eyes darted back down to the packet in your lap, your mind temporarily scrambled from his comment. “Oh, right. S-Sorry. Uh, we were talking about this second diagram on page 10,” you said hoarsely, your mouth feeling dry.

“Right. As I was saying earlier…”

* * *

It had been a day since your encounter with Professor Reid and the entire ordeal in his office. You had his class again tomorrow, giving you day without having to be subjected to his raging sex appeal. You never really had much interest in men or women, but your professor was a different story it seemed. You had finished your work for your classes, freeing up some free time for you.

**_“I work for the FBI as well as here.”_ **

You took out your laptop, pulling up a search engine and typing in ‘Doctor Spencer Reid FBI’ and hitting the enter key to start the search. All sorts of images, articles, and videos came up. On the side there was a Wikipedia biography, detailing his age and his profession, achievements, and things of that nature. You learned in ten short minutes that he had three P.H.Ds and was a graduate of Caltech University. He had gone to school as a child prodigy and was the youngest person to ever join the BAU. He was credited in solving a very long list of cold case files. He was only 35 years old, putting him at 14 years your senior.

“Jesus, this guy has earned almost every academic award known to mankind,” you muttered under your breath, sarcasm emanating from your tone. You kept reading about him, even reading some of his scientific journals about mathematics and other subjects. He was a good writer and he explained things extremely well. Interesting. Very, very interesting.

* * *

You woke up earlier on Friday morning, giving you more time to get ready for class. You took a shower and thought through your clothing choice, putting on black patterned slacks, a black turtleneck, and a tan overcoat that you had received for your 19th birthday. You gathered your things, making the walk across campus, rather than sprinting like you had days before and getting to lecture hall ten minutes early. You took a seat in the front row this time, smirking at your professor whose steps seemed to stutter the second he laid eyes on you. You just went about preparing for the lecture, acting like you had no clue what you were doing.

He cleared his throat, continuing his own preparation and writing things on the board. You took out your notebook and the packet as well as a pen, flipping the pen around in your fingers. You went over your notes and the packet again, trying to be prepared for any question that happened to be fired your way. People started pouring into the room, taking their seats and getting their things out.

“Good morning, class. I hope everyone did the packet I assigned. What’s in that packet is imperative to today’s class,” Professor Reid explained, smiling at everyone in the lecture hall. You looked at him, twirling the pen between your fingers and smirking. In part you were paying attention. The other part of you was eye fucking your professor, which wasn’t something you should be doing.

The lecture went on as normal, everyone taking notes and paying attention so they wouldn’t miss a thing. “Who can tell me what the difference between white and gray matter?” Professor Reid asked, pointing at someone random, “how about you.” The girl opened her mouth, trying to find something but came up empty, shrugging at him. “Anyone else?”

No one else raised their hands or threw out an answer. You waited until he turned around. He turned around, starting to write on the whiteboard, “white matter is—”

“Is made up of axons connecting the gray matter together. Gray matter is the dendrites, axons, and cell bodies within the brain,” you explained, smirking as he turned around and looked at you with a grin on his face, “a bit slow on the draw today, aye, professor?” Stifled chuckles and laughs filled the room, smiles and grins breaking out on your classmates faces.

Professor Reid grinned devilishly, rising to your challenge effortlessly. “See me after class, y/n. But you are correct, very good,” he praised, going back to what he was doing. You bit your bottom lip, paying attention to both his hands and the lecture.

A half hour passed, the lecture winding down and the professor eventually saying, “everyone is free to leave, except y/n. I need to speak with you.” You watched as everyone filed out of the room, Professor Reid smirking as he came to stand in front of you, hands in his pocket. You swallowed, your eyes focused on the desk and not the man standing in front of you. You flinched when two fingers snaked under your chin, tilting your head up to look him directly in the eye, a smoldering heat in his eyes. His thumb stroked over your chin, a seductive smile spreading across his face. Your pulse was racing, your heart threatening to rip out of your chest.

“You must have thought that was funny, teasing me and eye fucking me during my lecture,” he began, his voice low and decadent, “and then you just had to make a joke about my intellectual standing, didn’t you, y/n? I warned you last time, and you went and ignored my wishes like an arrogant little brat.” You shivered, your eyes darting away but a small smack to your face had your eyes directly back on his. “You’re going to follow me to office, and we are going to continue this there, understand?” he asked curtly, arching a brow.

“Yes,” you said quietly. He gave you a hard look, silently demanding something. You just stared for a moment, confused.

“Come on, y/n. I haven’t done a thing and you’re already a braindead little slut for me. Figure it out,” he mocked.

You just say the first thing that makes sense to you, hoping it would be correct. “Yes sir,” you say, although your voiced waivered with unspoken skepticism.

“There you go. Not quite as dumb as you seem when you’re aroused,” he praised, the humiliating words going straight to your dick. “Come on,” he ordered, motioning for you to follow as he began walking out of the room and towards his office. You followed behind him, thanking god you weren’t hard yet as the humanities building was starting to have more people flowing in and out of it. He let you into his office first, following directly behind you and locking the door. You suddenly felt kind of awkward, shuffling to the side and out of the way to put your bag down and to wait for him to take the lead. He stopped, sitting in the armchair, his legs spread to allow space between them. He wore a kind smile when he said, “y/n, you can say no or stop at any time and I will not be upset. Your consent is important. Do you understand?”

You nodded, “yes, professor, I understand. Thank you. This is kind of… um, new for me.”

“The sex part or the professor and breaking ethics part?” he asked, slightly amused.

“Um, both, kind of. I don’t have as much experience with other men,” you explained, fidgeting with your fingers. You felt someone nervous yet kind of giddy.

“That’s perfectly alright. Do you want this, yes or no? We don’t have to go all the way,” he explained, smiling up at you from his position in the armchair, his fingers starting to untie the purple tie around his neck.

“I don’t want to go all the way,” you replied, swallowing, and biting your bottom lip as he made direct eye contact with you, shrugging out of his suit jacket. His smile curved into a wicked grin, his fingers crooking in a ‘come hither’ motion. You came over to him, standing in front of him where you still had a foot of distance between you.

He pointed to your jacket, “take that off. You might want to take your shirt off too. And maybe your shoes if you don’t want them to crease.” You took off your jacket and shirt, not giving a damn about the beat up nike blazers on your feet. You draped them over the backs of one of the chairs, turning around and waiting for him to tell you what to do. He crooked his finger and you came closer to him, still keeping a foot of distance. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him, his other hand curling around your waist and holding you in place. His eyes raked down your body to your groin, where there was a growing bulge from your growing arousal.

He chuckled softly, teasing his fingers over your cloth covered erection. You took in a sharp breath, clearing your throat as he teased you. He looked back up at you with an evil, knowing grin on his face. “On your knees,” he ordered, releasing you. You sunk to your knees in the space between his legs, knowing instantly what he wanted. Your eyes flicked down to his groin, an impressive print growing in his slacks as he got harder and harder. His hand snaked down, sliding down his shirt slowly and then to the apex of his thighs, his hand palming himself through the material of his pants. You licked your lips hungrily, lust surging in the depths of your irises. “What do you want, y/n?” he asked, his voice taking on a rough, husky edge that made you let out a small groan in response.

You looked directly at where his hand was stroking himself and then looked back up at him, not saying a word. He shook his head, laughing, “no, y/n. _Tell me_ what you want. Use your words.” You hesitated, your cheeks flushing in slight in embarrassment. “All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give it to you. Use your words and tell me what it is you want,” he coaxed, continuing to palm himself.

“I want your cock in my mouth,” you said softly, the words practically inaudible.

“Speak up, y/n. I can’t hear you.”

“I want you cock in my mouth,” you said louder, the words more forceful.

He smirked, stopping his motions, and removing his hands. “Then get to work,” he commanded, watching as you reached for his belt with shaky hands and unbuckled it, working on his fly and then pulling his cock out. “Y/n,” he said, prompting you to look up at him and pause, “if you want to stop, just tell me. If you can’t speak, tap me three times and I’ll stop as well.”

“Yes sir,” you replied before leaning down and taking the tip of his cock in your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around the smooth crown and then lick under the underside of his shaft. He let out a small groan, his fingers finding your hair. He closed his eyes, swearing in some foreign language you assumed as you licked up and down him, your hands resting on his thighs.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that. Very good,” he praised, his hips barely thrusting up into your mouth as you started to venture further, taking more of him in your mouth. One of your hands went to stroke him while you sucked him off, but you were stopped, his hand grabbing yours and placing it back on his thigh. He started pushing your head forwards, pushing you down farther and slowly starting to fuck your mouth, the tip of his cock pressing just barely against the back of your throat. You moaned around him, your own dick growing achingly hard. “God, such a natural submissive, aren’t you? You try and act like a brat but fall into line the second I even hint at something more. So smart, but so eager to be treated like a dumb little puppy,” he crooned, making you moan slightly louder, your moans mixing with light gagging noises as you took his cock down your throat.

He pulled you off his cock, staring down at you intently, his pupils dilated from pleasure. “You have to keep it quiet, puppy, or else someone might hear us. You can be good and stay quiet, can’t you?”

You nodded, “yes sir.”

“Good,” he said, pushing you back down towards his dick. You took him back in your mouth, letting him slide to the back of your throat as you choked slightly. You weren’t exactly a pro at this, but you weren’t new to it, either. “Relax your throat, pet. Your taking my cock so well,” he whispered, working you up and down on his cock. You did as he ordered, or at least the best you could, finding it a lot more helpful. You swallowed around him on a deeper stroke, a stifled moan escaping his lips. It was like music to your ears, spurring you on as you got impossibly harder. His breathing became harder as he thrust into your mouth deeper, his pace letting you take in air each time he pulled out but his strokes hitting deep in your throat. Precum leaked onto your tongue, another small moan emanating from your chest and around his dick.

He gave you a small smack to the face, pulling his cock all the way out of your mouth, his hand gripping it as he started stroking himself. You whined at the loss, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Puppy, I told you to be quiet. You can’t have my cock if you don’t do what I say and behave,” he admonished lightly.

“Please,” you begged quietly, mesmerized by his hand working up and down his dick.

“Please what, pet? What do you say?”

The word slipped out of your mouth before your brain had caught up.

“Please, master,” you pleaded before quickly realizing what you had said. Your eyes went wide, your body stilling as you waited for backlash or for the mood to effectively die.

“ _Fuck_ , y/n. Take my cock down your throat,” he demanded harshly, pushing you back down and letting his cock slip back down your mouth. You kitten licked the underside, trying to bob your head as best you could with his grip on your hair. “I’m gonna cum, puppy. You’re going to swallow it all like a good little pet, aren’t you?” You didn’t answer, you simply tried to suck him harder to show your enthusiasm of the idea. He rocked his hips up, his head thrown back in sheer ecstasy as he came, silent groans dying on his lips as he climaxed. You damn near came yourself, the sight incredibly erotic. He leaned back, his chest heaving, sweat beading from his forehead. His hand slid down, coming to cup your cheek, a lazy smile on his face as he floated in his orgasmic high.

He stood, moving behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, his lips on your neck. “Are you ok with being blindfolded?” he asked in a whisper, his breath hot around your neck.

“Yes, fuck, please,” you begged. He grinned against your neck, the silk of his tie coming around your eyes, the feeling of it being secured around your head making you hyperaware of everything going on around you. His fingers dug into your bare skin, one hand sliding down to palm you like he had himself earlier.

“Such a good puppy. You sucked me off so, so well,” he praised, his fingers unbuckling you belt and slipping inside your boxers, stroking your aching erection. You let out a breathy moan, trying to be quiet. You bit your bottom lip as he sucked on your neck and shoulder, your hips rolling into his hand. Your hands found both his wrists, gripping onto him as your climax built. Pleasure sparked and coursed through you like electricity through a wire.

“Fuck, please. I need to cum so— _ahh_ —bad. Please, sir,” you whispered, your body bowing. Your head fell back against his shoulder, his hands stroking you rhythmically.

“Cum for me, pet. Show me how good you feel. I want you to cum for me. You were such a good boy. Cum. Cum for me,” he demanded, his voice low and smooth. You whimpered as you climaxed all over his hand, your breathing hard as the euphoric sensation crashed over you. He pulled you back, pulling you into his lap and settling you there, his fingers slipping his tie off your face, revealing the room. “You’re amazing, y/n.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMK what you think and have an amazing day/night reader!


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